


Silence

by ArcadiosV (Mariannie)



Series: The Archives [8]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Crying, M/M, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariannie/pseuds/ArcadiosV
Summary: Far into the future, the Commander is faced with something he can't overcome.He's surrounded by loved ones when it happens, but that doesn't make it any less difficult.
Series: The Archives [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063736
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags please.   
> Verne dies here. 
> 
> This is an alternate timeline of events much much into the future.  
> We're talking several decades.
> 
> Horatio is going to play a bigger role in future fics.   
> But all that's important to know right now, is that he's a Chronomancer.
> 
> Also, i cried while writing this. It was not easy... even when it's basically just an AU.

The few steps into the hut in Hoelbrak were the hardest he had ever have to take. Horatio had faced many fears head on, mostly because he never had a choice, but this fear right now nearly took his breath away.

The commander. His mentor, the person who taught him everything he knew about chronomancy… dying.

And no saving him.

Dragon’s Watch was there too. Horatio had heard Taimi crying long before he had even reached the door to the adjacent room. She was sitting next to Verne’s head, one hand wiping the constant stream of tears, the other on his head, thumb brushing over his forehead like a mother to a frightened child.

Horatio avoided looking at the commander. He didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to make the next few hours reality. He would have halted the time if he could but that was a skill he hadn’t fully mastered yet. 

Rytlock was leaning against a wall, a direct sight to the commander, but his eyes were on the floor. 

Braham was close to Taimi, sitting on the floor next to her. Face hard, no expression betrayed what he was thinking.

Jory was sitting on the opposite side from Taimi, on top of the furs, one of Verne’s hands in his, running her hand over the back of his, constantly.

They all knew what would happen in the next few hours.

And Horatio wished he could have stopped it. Verne and him were close. Closer than anyone had realized at this point. They hadn’t made it a big deal. They didn’t show their affection like Jory and Kas. But seeing Verne like this was painful, made Horatio feel sick. 

The air was stale, and he found it hard to breath as he approached. Years ago Verne had taken him in as an apprentice, after he had begged for days. Learning from the commander had been interesting. And even after Verne had told him everything, Horatio had stuck around.

Jory noticed his approach and waved him over, switched places with him.

He found himself sitting in her spot, holding Verne’s limp but still warm hand. He knew soon it wouldn’t be warm anymore. He hadn’t dared to ask what happened, he didn’t want to know what cause injuries that couldn’t be healed in time, what creature had dared to do this.

He wished he had been around, he could have done something.

Jory’s hand on his knee startled him. “Talk to him… he can hear you.”

Horatio didn’t dare to ask if he would understand the words. He started talking, told him about the day, how the snow looked in the sunlight, that Rory and Roise had taken off to the crystal desert just yesterday. 

None of the healers and menders and anyone could do anything. It was a poison there was no antidote for. Horatio didn’t want to ask how long it would take.

“…How’d you like the idea of a certain bounty hunter taking over?” Verne whispered, voice barely audible. His eyes were open just a crack, Horatio could just see their color. 

“Rory?” Taimi asked between wiping her tears and blinking them away. “…I mean… you think he has what it takes?”

Verne gave her a weak smile. “You’ll teach him.”

“Damn right we will!” Braham yelled, fist pumped into the air.

Rytlock finally approached then, seemingly having found his composure. Horatio couldn’t blame him, he himself was fighting a battle against emotions he knew he’d lose soon.

The Charr settled down next to Taimi, grunting as he did so. One of his clawed hands settled on Verne’s chest, some unspoken conversation going between them. Horatio had never been able to explain how they did it, but it was as if they communicated through thoughts. In any other circumstance it was mind-blowing to see. 

Now it was horrifying.

Rytlock grimaced, turned his gaze away and Verne reached out with his free hand. It was shaking violently as he lifted it, but he managed to grab the revenant’s arm. 

“No one’s going to make fun of you for this, Rytlock.” Verne whispered. 

Horatio wasn’t sure what he meant, didn’t bother to ask. He sounded so weak, and yet he still had his determination. The normalcy in their words almost made it seem like everything was fine. But he felt the heavy air, the emotions clinging in the room.

“…You know I’m not good at this.” Rytlock mumbled.

Verne smirked. “…maybe some dying sylvari is scared out of his mind and would like some words of encouragement.”

It was supposed to be a joke, Horatio relaxed, but the dread inside him just grew. Verne never admitted fear. He always avoided it, always joked about it. Even now, but the words were direct. He had voiced it.

It wasn’t going to be long now, he realized.

Taimi suppressed a sob, and Verne let go of Rytlock to try to comfort her. “Hey, you don’t need to water me…” His voice was so soft, even with the whispering. Gentle. And she tipped forward to lie down next to him, curled up in his fading warmth. Something she had probably never dared to do before. He moved his arm around her, ran his hand over her back. She clung to the straps of his shirt, face buried in the fur beneath him.

“You’re the best friend I ever had, Verne.” Rytlock muttered then, voice strangely silent. 

Braham nodded in agreement. “Your legend will not be forgotten. I’ll make sure of that.”

Verne gave them both a smile. “Thank you.” he nodded for Jory to come closer and the necromancer bit down hard on her lip and she approached again.

“…I’m sorry Kas couldn’t make it in time.” She apologized. “…She wouldn’t have left you like this- and-”

She lost against her tears, pressed a hand over her mouth and Verne freed his hand from Horatio’s grasp to grip her sleeve and pull her closer. She kneeled down next to him, face buried in her hands as she cried.

Horatio saw it then, the glistening of tears in Verne’s eyes. The grimace as he fought against them. 

“I’m...sorry.” he apologized, despite there being nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t Verne’s fault he got poisoned. It was a twisted act of fate.

Jory shook her head frantically. “No, no, no- Verne you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Horatio wondered when they had all dropped the title and went to first names, but it seemed appropriate in this situation.

“If you do end up in the domain of the lost again…,” Taimi muttered, “Kick some butts for me okay?…”

“I will.” Verne promised.

Silence settled over them for a few moments, and Jory composed herself, got halfway up from the floor, then leaned forward and kissed Verne’s forehead. 

“You’re a great friend to all of us. We wouldn’t be here without you. And we won’t make the world forget what you’ve done for it.”

He bit his lip, forced a smile. “Thank you.”

It was a slow poison Horatio noticed. And he hoped that someone would find a way to cure it before it was too late. He clung to that hope, wished he could make it reality. But there was nothing he could do.

Jory settled down on the floor a bit further away and Verne returned his hand to Horatio’s. The younger Mesmer clung to it, and was surprised at the intensity Verne gripped back with. He was terrified. And yet he looked so calm. 

“...I want you to make the arrangements…” Verne whispered to him. “There’s a pocket watch in one of my bags… it was supposed to be a gift for you… but I didn’t get to prepare that in time… Take it. I had it made just for you.”

Horatio froze. A gift for him? It was true they were approaching his birthday... 

“Thank you…”

“I think it’s in the big one.” Verne hissed, voice becoming strained. Horatio didn’t dare to move, but Verne insisted. 

Reluctantly he let go of Verne’s hand, and rummaged around in the bags until he found the watch. It was golden, intricate. Tiny gemstones in turquoise and lavender embedded in the lid. 

He didn’t look at it long, clutched it in his hand and settled back down next to Verne. 

“You found it.” his voice was just barely more than a puff of air now. “It’s… adjusted and wound up… There’s...an engraving inside the lid.”

Horatio nodded. He could look at that later. It wasn’t important now. 

He had always been afraid to show just how close he was to Verne around the others, but now he would never get another chance. He leaned in, watch in one hand, the other resting on Verne’s cheek. Verne gripped his shirt and pulled him down, in a silent agreement. 

Horatio kissed his lips, felt Verne chuckle into it like he always did when it was unexpected.

Then Verne’s hand lost the grip on Horatio’s shirt, and Taimi shrieked.

Horatio heard his own sob, but he didn’t feel it, didn’t notice. His head buzzed, he couldn’t… this just… it wasn’t true. 

It couldn’t be true.

But the commander was still. No dumb joke, no laughed “surprise”... just nothing.

He was gone.


End file.
